


Ashes of the Dragon Witch

by Pink_Aesthetic



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Arguing, Blood, Burn Wounds, Burns, Chains, Character Death, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Death, Dragon Witch - Freeform, Evil animal death, Fights, Fire, Gen, Imprisonment, Logic | Logan Sanders - Freeform, Magic, Mind Palace, Morality | Patton Sanders - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sanders Sides (Video Blogging RPF), Unconsciousness, death mention, people die, scar mentions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13736664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_Aesthetic/pseuds/Pink_Aesthetic
Summary: Roman can alter his room to create fantasy realms and mystical kingdoms; to play out scenarios where he is the prince in shining armor and he gets to save the day!But the Dragon Witch is tired of playing games.(Abandoned)





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mind palace has been weirdly quiet and Virgil, unsurprisingly, is anxious about it.

It has now been a full twenty-four hours since Roman has left his room and to say Virgil was getting anxious was an understatement. He had begun to pace in front of the door that led into the creative sides room, chewing on his fingernails as he did so. The strange thing, however, no one else seemed to be worried! Patton had not questioned anything when Roman had not appeared for lunch or dinner or even breakfast the next morning. Logan had only glanced over at Roman’s normal chair this morning before returning to his crossword puzzle and coffee. It didn’t make any sense! Why hadn’t Roman left his room yet? What was he doing?

“You alright there, kiddo,” Patton asked as he spotted Virgil when he turned the corner. A basket of laundry held out in front of him.

“No, I’m not,” Virgil admitted in a growl, stopping his pacing to stand in front of the father figure, “Roman had been in his room for twenty-four hours and no one else seems bothered.”

Patton gave Virgil a comforting smile, “Well because there is nothing to be bothered about! Roman will sometimes go on adventures in his corner of the mind, but he will be back soon, and probably chipper than when he left.”

“How long does it usually take?” Virgil asked.

“Well, the longest he’s been gone so far is five days, but I believe his trips are usually two days long,” Patton said, moving the basket to his hip.

“Five days?” Virgil gaped, “And you never thought to check on him?”

Patton frowned, “It was a while ago, I didn’t even know Roman’s name at the time. Though that was the only time he came back without a smile.” He furrowed his brow in concentration, thinking about Roman in his room, but after a minute his face relaxed and his smile returned, “I wouldn’t worry about it though, kiddo! Roman’ll probably be back tomorrow and you can ask all about his adventure!” Patton took the basket off his hip and started walking towards the laundry room once again.

Virgil nodded to himself, processing the new information about the prince. If Patton wasn’t worried about it, then maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal? Virgil told himself this, but when nightfall came it wasn’t just the shadows or the thought of the Demogorgon hiding in the closet that kept Virgil from sleeping. Now the added thought of Roman never leaving his room was haunting his mind.

Morning couldn’t come quick enough, so when Patton knocked on his door at eight AM for breakfast Virgil was quick to put on his hoodie and leave his room. The first thing he noticed, however, was that Roman’s chair was still empty. He tried to ignore this and just eat what Patton had made, blueberry pancakes. Though ignoring the empty chair at breakfast turned into ignoring it at lunch and then ignoring the silence in the afternoon and again ignoring the empty chair at dinner and again the silence that came after. Soon enough, two full days had passed without Roman. Virgil was far beyond anxious.

“You can not tell me you are not worried,” Virgil said at breakfast, once Patton had sat down with his own plate of scrambled eggs and hash browns. Logan sipped his coffee and Roman's chair was no longer ignorably empty, it was glaringly empty.

Patton huffed, “Well, of course, I’m worried, kiddo, who knows what Roman is doing in his room! But he’s done this before and he’s always come back, so who are we to stop his fun!”

“Patton is right,” Logan said with a slight edge in his voice, writing in another word in his crossword and not offering any more input, apparently useless in the morning.

Virgil grumbled and slouched in his chair, he moodily pushed his food around his plate. It’s not like he needed to eat anyway, he was imaginary after all. 

That didn’t stop Patton from going all “dad” on him, “Now Virgil, don’t play with your food.”

Virgil groaned and pushed away from the table, standing up, “I’ll be in my room.” He padded away from the common area but just heard the sad sigh that Patton let out when he was out of sight. Virgil glared at the ground and made his way to the dark purple door that led to his room. Which had become a few shades darker than it was two days ago (though it was still a lot better than the pitch black it had been for the longest time). While in his room Virgil did anything he could to distract himself, listened to music, practiced his calligraphy, even rearranged his bookshelf, but nothing worked. He couldn’t stop worrying about Roman. Stupid, self-centered, vain Roman. 

So that’s how Virgil came to be standing in front of the prince’s door, having a serious debate with himself about whether or not to open it. 

Was it just him, or did some of the golden swirls that were curling over the wood look like they had receded some? And was the door a lighter shade of red? The more Virgil stared at the door the more his anxiety grew. Was the door less vibrant than usual? Could that mean Roman was hurt? Or in some distress?

He finally gained enough courage to put his hand on the doorknob. From there he was able to open it a crack, and then an inch, and then wide enough to step in. Through the door was no room at all but a large grassy field coated with a literal rainbow of flowers. Not far into the distance was a large castle sitting atop a hill.

But there was no Roman in sight.

Virgil looked behind him into the hallway of the mind palace, peering down both ends to check to see if the coast was clear. He felt like a little kid sneaky into his parents’ room, but this was something he needed to do if only to quell his anxiety. Virgil stepped through the door; closing it behind him. He didn’t look back again as he began the trek across the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! The next part is already up so you can go ahead to the next chapter :D


	2. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman's first day playing in his room doesn't go exactly as he had imagined.

Roman had imagined his kingdom and a villain to defeat, the Dragon Witch. He had imagined this scenario many times. He hated to be repetitive, but by god, slaying the Dragon Witch was so much fun! The Dragon Witch was beautiful and cunning, woefully skilled in fire and transformation magic, and quite a terrifying dragon when she wanted to be. 

So when the Dragon Witch burst into his castle a bit late, he thought nothing of it and went straight into daring prince mode.

“Prince Roman,” the witch’s voice sharp, her black cloak trailing behind her as she stormed towards his throne, “You have made a terrible mistake, and it’s time the tables have turned.”

Roman stood, drawing his sword. He stood up straight, fearless. Now was not the time for a fight. The final battle would be later, now was the time for threats and promises. Just as it has always been.

The Dragon Witch made her way to Roman in only a few short seconds, looming over him with a glare of daggers. Though the glare made him pause, there was much more force in that glare than he had ever seen, that he had ever imagined. But the Dragon Witch made short of the pause, forming a ball of fire in her hand as she spoke, “I have withered in my cave for far too long. Prince Roman of Minidia, I swear to you this, I will uphold every and all threats I have made to you. I will fully go through with everyone. I will burn down your villages, slaughter your people, and take over your throne. I will do all of this. I will do it all, and you’ll be unable to stop me. Completely and utterly incapable of protecting all you have created and all you have built. This is a promise Prince Roman, a promise.”

The Dragon Witch clasped onto Roman’s wrist, her hand fully inflamed. Roman screamed out in pain, immediately dropping his sword and his knees buckling. She held onto Roman’s arm as the rest of collapsed to the ground, she smiled maliciously down at him, “I will keep my promise, Roman. And at the end of it all, you will be mine.”

She dropped his arm. Roman pulled it close to him, the perfect imprint of a hand was wrapped around his wrist, red and welting, the skin had almost been completely burned away were her palm had been. The Dragon Witch laughed and swept out of the castle, leaving a trail of fire behind that was quickly burning through the carpet that led to his throne. A servant girl that had been watching from the far corner of the room rushed towards him, pulling him away from the fire that was climbing towards him, and rushing him towards the medical bay. They passed a few other servants on the way there, who of which the girl hurriedly told them all of the fire. Roman hoped they would put it out quickly, but was also far more concerned with his wrist and the exchange he had with the Dragon Witch

The Dragon Witch had never injured him like this before, not out of battle. He’s been injured in his imaginary worlds before, he has a fair amount of scars he’s never bothered getting rid of with a wave of his hand. Those scars were cool, made him look heroic. But this wasn’t a gash from a sword or the claw marks of a mighty beast, this was a handprint burned into his flesh. It was a brand. Roman was terrified by the message it sent.

They finally arrived at the castle medical bay and Roman regretted using a medieval theme for his current adventure as there was nothing that could be done about the pain. All that was done to his wound was some cool water was wrung out from a towel over his wrist a few times and some herb and oil mix of an ointment applied before it was wrapped heavily in clean gauze around his wrist and most of his hand.

Roman huffed at the sight of the bandage, resisting the urge to poke at it, knowing that any touch would bring horrible pain as it stung to even move his hand too much. So as night was slowly beginning to cover his kingdom, Roman excused himself to an early night and escorted himself to his bedchambers. News had gotten to him that fire in the throne room was never put out by any servant, but that it had dissipated by itself the moment that his throne was turned completely to ash. Quite a threatening display from the Dragon Witch. 

Roman flopped onto the enormous bed, immediately wishing he hadn’t as his injured wrist bounced against the bed same as him. He dragged it on top of his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. 

The Dragon Witch had acted the same. Same sweeping of the cloak, same threats, same glare, same face-to-face. But it was different, they weren’t just threats, they were promises. Roman shuddered at the thought of the glare the Dragon Witch had given him, it wasn’t the usual icy stare of a villain that only wished for destruction. It was fiery, filled with passion and hate. The Dragon Witch was no longer fighting Roman for only destruction, something had changed. Something had caused the Dragon Witch to not only hate the joy of his kingdom but the kingdom itself. She no longer hated Roman’s happiness. But she hated Roman himself. It was terrifying to look into her eyes when she had stood over him, and it was even more terrifying now, lying in bed and waiting for tomorrow to come. 

He could leave, go back through the door that led to the rest of the mind palace. The moment he does everything would disappear and his own room would return. But then what would be the point of the adventure if he quit the moment things got hairy. He’s fought through worse (probably)! He could defeat some witch! Roman drifted off to sleep, still in his clothes and sans the bed covers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you got to the next chapter, glad you stuck around! The next part will be up soon, but in the meantime- How about putting a little comment down below? They're greatly appreciated and really encouraging! X3


	3. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman is trying his best to be a hero.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when a servant came pounding on Roman’s door. The same one from yesterday, he noted. She had received word that a great wall of fire has encircled the entirety of the town. Roman took this news with vigor and began to send out orders to quickly evacuate the town into the castle. No one was safe if the Dragon Witch had them trapped.

Once the orders had been sent Roman set out on his horse, Valerie, to the edge of the town where the wall of fire brushed the sky and the flames were an electric blue. The air was eerily silent as the fire had nothing to burn but the scorched grass surrounding the flames, the wall was purely fueled by the Dragon Witch. Roman had a fleeting thought wondering just how powerful the witch was.

“Dragon Witch! Show yourself!” Roman bellowed at the wall, knowing the witch was no doubt somewhere near. Valerie pawed the ground anxiously and tried to twist her body away from flames, but Roman held her steady. His wounded hand seemed to burn hotter the closer Valerie stepped towards the wall, but perhaps that was just the fact he was using it with only a night’s rest. Either way, he ignored it.

It was mere moments before the Dragon Witch made her presence known. She parted the flames and there she stood. She was in full dragon form, her crimson scales shimmering in the combined light of the flames and rising sun, her head bowed low like she was preparing to speak to a child, and despite her lizard features, Roman could still make out the smirk on her face.

“Why, Hello Roman,” The Dragon witch purred, “You seem upset.”

Roman glared at her, “Dragon Witch, what are you doing?” 

“I made a promise Roman. I intend on keeping it.“ Her tail swished behind her in a playful manner.

“It is Prince Roman to you!” Roman shot back angrily, “Why don’t we end this here?” The Dragon Witch was going rogue to the script Roman had imagined. He needed to end this scenario fast.

“I have only just begun Roman, besides, I’ve learned first hand I could never beat you in a match against your sword.” The Dragon Witch chuckled.

“What do you mean?” Roman was confused. The Dragon Witch should have no recollection of his past victories, she dies at the end of each one, and she surely never seen him with his sword within this scenario.

“You’ll see soon, Roman, but until then-” the opening in the wall began to reform, the grass that was only blackened before was now turning to ash as the flames moved slowly back into place. Roman ushered Valerie to gallop forward, but the walls closed in before they could make it through. Valerie reared back just before hitting the wall and turned sharply, Roman was flung off her back and onto the ground as Valerie ran as fast as she could back towards the castle. Roman watched her go with a sneer, tempted to yell a very long string of curses. He had not only lost his chance at defeating the Dragon Witch once and for all, but he's also lost his ride back. And with the wall encircling the town, Roman had no way of getting back to his bedroom door which stood at the edge of the woods just past the flower fields, tucked away where no one would mistakenly find it (not that it matter if they did, Roman is the only one you could open it back into the mind palace, but he rather it not be tampered with). Roman was trapped within his own imaginary scenario by his own imaginary villain. Well wasn’t that just dandy.

Roman was brought out of his thoughts as he felt the heat by his feet growing. He turned back to look at the wall and was horrified to discover that it was moving forward. Roman rushed to his feet and sucked in a breath as he watched the wall inch closer ever so slowly. By nightfall the wall would surround his castle and have consumed the entire town. He had to get all his people to his castle before the flames were to reach them. So, without his horse, Roman ran to the closest house a quarter mile away.

He was out of breath when he arrived at the home’s front door. A small farmhouse with a barn not too far into the distance. Roman felt a bit sick when he noticed the toy wooden truck sitting in the yard and a few pieces of children’s clothing on the clothesline hanging next to the home. Roman swallowed his fear as he knocked on the door.

A weary young woman opened the door, her hair was pulled back in a bun but strands were quickly falling out of place, “Prince Roman?”

“I would assume you have seen the wall of fire?” Roman asked, pointing in the direction he came. 

The woman nodded, worry etched on her features, “I have, the children and I are packing to move to my mother’s in town. My husband is in the barn, preparing a horse to pull a carriage.”

“Good, I have noticed the wall is now coming closer, you should have plenty of time to get out, though I urge you to take your family to my castle, my royal guard are already evacuating the town center there, but I’m afraid they will not get to the outskirts before it is too late.“

“Oh my, well, thank you for the warning, Prince Roman, we will hurry as quick as we can.” The woman said, taking his hand.

“You are welcome madam, but I do have a favor to ask: My horse had run off and it would be a great help if you could spare one of your own. I’d hope to warn as many people as possible of this new development. I promise you will be greatly compensated.”

“Oh, of course my Prince, please, go speak to my husband, he will lend you Cookie.”

Roman gave one last thanks and quickly made his way towards the barn. The woman’s husband was happy to hand over his horse to Roman and even helped him saddle Cookie. Roman immediately set out, giving warnings to as many people as possible.

By the time the sun was just scrapping the opposite horizon the wall of fire was pushing through houses just a mile away from the castle. It had been slowly gaining speed as it approached and Roman was sure that it would only be another hour before the wall hit the castle walls, sooner if it gained any more speed. 

Whenever the flames would brush against a structure it would quickly be consumed by flames, and Roman had a horrid feeling that there were some families that had not left their homes before the wall had reached them. He was fully aware he was unable to reach every home before the wall did, the town had thousands of homes and thousands of people.

Once Roman was finally back at the castle helping people settle in, the wall was merely a few inches away from the castle wall, any closer and Roman would fear that the Dragon Witch planned on setting his castle a lit as well as the town. However, as the sun’s final rays disappeared over the horizon the wall of fire dissipated; revealing the ashy wasteland behind it that was once a place of so much joy and life. 

Nobody left the castle that night. Roman never asked nor expected anyone to go. 

He fell asleep the same as he did the previous night, in his apparel and on top of his comforter. The handprint on his wrist still burned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	4. Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman realizes he's bitten off more than he can chew.

It wasn’t a servant or the sun’s light that woke Roman up the next day. It was the howling. The sound blew in from a breeze that had carried it from far away. Roman flew to his bedroom window, but he couldn’t see anything but the miles of ash and the distant line of green where the fields and the forest lay. The howling continued, though, louder now, but still distant. Roman had no clue what that meant, the Dragon Witch had no control over animals. He knew that fact for certain. 

He had imagined wolves in the forest, of course, but he would expect they would wish to stay in the forest. Not go towards the blackened wasteland.

Roman changed his clothing before leaving his room. As it turns out, you could hear the eerie whispers of the howls all throughout the castle. Roman wasn’t sure what to do. There was no telling where the wolf was except for north, where the sound was loudest. No clue whether it would move on or come their way. So Roman begrudgingly pledged to ignore it for the time.

It was hours later and Roman had spent his time trying to get food to everyone in the castle. The howling had stopped as quickly as it had begun and Roman believed the wolf had moved on to the forest to hunt. 

That is until a howl pierced through castle walls. The wolf had moved closer.

Roman ran towards the north side of the castle where the howl had come from. He found himself in an empty study, staring out a large window. At first glance, he did not see anything but black ash and rubble, but then a pair of blue flames peered up from the ash. And then another pair. And another. And more and more.

They were wolves, tens of them, all black and gray. Their eyes were no eyes at all but the same flames as the Dragon Witch’s wall. They had no fur and no living matter. Pieced together out of burnt wood, stone and bricks. The wolves were created from the remains of his town. Mismatched and mashed together to create monsters for the Dragon Witch.

The alpha of the pack was obvious. She was twice the size of the others and positioned in the front. She watched Roman with the same intensity the Dragon Witch had. 

The handprint on his wrist burned. Roman swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat as he stared right back. 

The prince would never admit that he was the one to look away first, but her gaze was blazing a hole through his soul. The moment he glanced away the alpha let loose a howl that bounced through the castle, reaching every person within. The pack charged forward, rushing past their alpha as she stared Roman down. They dug their claws into the stone walls and began to pry away the bricks. 

“Prince Roman!” Roman spun away from the window, realizing he had been watching in silent horror for much too long. The servant girl, who had been the first to his side these past two days, came rushing towards him, “Prince Roman! We are escorting as many people as possible to the dungeons below to keep them out of harm’s way. I ask that you follow suit.”

Roman almost squeaked out a response to allow the girl to drag him away to safety; but, while Roman was fearful, He was no coward,“No. You help as many people as possible get to safety. I will hold the wolves off.”

The girl looked as if she wanted to say more, to argue with him, but she kept quiet and nodded. Roman watched her go. When she was out of sight he stripped off the bandages on his arm. He had forgotten to get them replaced the day before, but looking at the burn now he realized he would not have needed to. The wound had completely healed, only leaving the pink indent of the Dragon Witch’s hand. He had half the thought to remove it right there. If he concentrated long enough he could imagine the brand away. However, that may create a shift in the world, allowing for glitches in his story to appear, and that had unforeseen consequences. Roman would rather not deal with more horrible happenings.

Roman dropped the dirty bandages to the paneled floor and drew his sword. His wrist burned hotter with the cool metal in his hand. The Dragon Witch most likely had cursed the brand, but the pain was bearable. Roman rushed out the door to meet the wolves who were digging straight into his north wing ballroom. 

The ballroom was completely empty by the time he reached it. Granted, the castle halls were still filled to the brim, as villagers rushed far from the ballroom. 

The curved ballroom wall was spouting dust from splintering cracks as the wolves got closer to breaking through. Roman stood in the middle of the room watching and waiting for the inevitable crash. The massive doors to the ballroom swung shut behind him, upon his request. Roman knew no matter what he wouldn’t be able to hold off every creature that came through that wall. Any barrier, no matter how small, was welcomed. 

Large pieces of stone began to crumble to the ground and Roman steadied himself, awaiting the coming fight. A blackened paw burst threw and a domino effect began as the most of the wall began to tumble away. The first wolf leaped into the room and headed straight towards Roman. Roman managed ot move at the last second, sending the beast flying behind him. More wolves were piling into the room now and they went straight towards the door. Roman went to intercept them, but the first wolf had recovered and was blocking Roman’s path as the rest of the pack began to claw away at the doors. It became clear that this one had been set to keep him occupied.

The wolf was smaller than the rest, merely an inch shorter than Roman. He had to rid of it quickly or all his efforts would be for naught if the pack broke through the doors. The wolf pounced; Roman stepped to the side and swung his sword outward so that it caught the wolf’s side as it went past. The wolf yelped and slowly steadied itself, but before it got the chance to retaliate Roman dashed forward and ran his sword through the wolf head. It’s flames flickered out and it collapsed back into the rubble it was made of. Satisfied, and with much more confidence, Roman turned towards the pack that was ravaging the door. He didn’t get far though, two wolves moved in to block his path.

Roman had almost forgotten why he had created this scenario, but the new fighting challenge had reminded him. Roman had created this scenario to defeat evil creatures and have fun; and while most people probably wouldn’t find a fight to the death fun, Roman found them exhilarating. With a cocky smile forming, Roman began to make short work of the wolves that had challenged him. 

It wasn’t long before Roman forgot where he was as he vanquished wolf after wolf. Until a scream broke through the air. Roman looked back towards the ballroom doors. Wolves were rushing through the already splintered and ruined doors. Roman’s face paled as yells and wails began to flood the halls and ballroom. 

He stepped forward to get to the doors, but with the distraction a wolf was a able to sneak up on him. It pounced on his back, knocking him over and holding him in place. His sword skidded across the floor and out of reach. Roman attempted to wiggle out of the wolf’s grip, but it growled low and applied more pressure to Roman’s back, effectively making him stop. If the beast was to force its full weight on top of him Roman would be crushed. There was no way out without facing broken bones or a painful death; and, no matter what, an injured prince was no use to his people. He tried to come up with an escape plan, some way to remove himself, but nothing seemed plausible.

The sound of a baby crying echoed through the halls and Roman felt sick to his stomach. The wolves pushed his people further and further into the walls of his castle, killing any person that was even one step behind. Everyone would be dead before long and Roman could do nothing but listen.

A wolf barked from behind Roman and he was surprised when the wolf removed itself from his back. He took little time to hop off the ground and rush to grab his sword. The alpha had made her appearance. She made her way towards Roman, head held high; but she was not eyeing him down, she was scanning the ballroom floor. Roman had slain a good number of wolves before he was toppled and the remains of those wolves lay strewn about. 

A rather large lump formed in Roman’s throat as the alpha moved closer and no effort to swallow it down was working. She was mere feet away from Roman when she finally moved her eyes over him. Immediately, a sudden flare of pain burst through Roman’s hand and he dropped his sword. Pulling his arm close to his chest as if moving it further away from her would help. He wanted to run, but fear held him in place as the alpha stalked closer. The alpha towered over him, her blue eyes of fire were blazing with ferocity. The brand began to burn with the same pain as when the Dragon Witch had created it. His body instinctively curled up, trying to protect his hand from a source of pain that was out of Roman’s control. 

The alpha watched unfazed as, with a swing of her paw, she sent Roman flying to the other side of the room. Unconsciousness overcame Roman the moment he hit the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated and if there are any tags that you feel I've forgotten don't hesitate to mention it!


	5. She

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman's turn is over. Now she wants a go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! :)

The smell of blood was near overwhelming as she stepped through the threshold of the castle. She took in the sight of the carnage that had reigned within the ballroom. Her creations resorted to piles of rubble. Debris scattered across the floor. What worried her the most, however, was Roman’s unconscious form. 

“You must be more careful,” she spoke to Alpha, her voice like the gentle hiss of a snake, “If he were to die everything would be for naught.” The wolf whimpered an apology, her head bowed and ears pulled back. 

She gave Alpha a once over, glancing into the blue fire eyes. Huffing, she pulled the wolf's snout closer to her with a gentle hand, “You are forgiven. However, I am afraid I will not be bringing your fallen pack members back. I have no energy to waste on failures.”

Instead she faced the gaping hole her wolves had created. Magic flowed through her fingertips, curling in the air like blue satin ribbons. Piece by piece stone was set back into the wall. The task was draining, but returning the castle to its former glory would be for the best. When the last pebble set in place her spell ended abruptly, the wall was perfect once again. 

Her fingertips still prickled with magic. Thoughts and emotions strained for a release, to use her craft even more. Perhaps she would put her begging magic to good use. It would take so much energy. Could possibly take days for her to regain her full strength. If she chooses to answer her emotion's calls. 

Her emotions, her magic, they kept pushing to be released. She might as well make a point. 

Fire erupted around her, cool to the touch and blazing blue, and spread throughout the ballroom at a rabbit's pace. She wasn’t practiced in this variety of magic by any means, but it was working well. The once pristine white ballroom, with swirling marble floors and rose red curtains, was changing. The floors became sparkling black and the walls a lavish dusk, the curtains darkened from rose to blood.

The flames waited at the edge of the broken doors as she stalked up the curving stairs. Alpha followed steps, Roman dangling from her mouth. The ribbons of magic raced from her fingertips, enveloping the splinters of wood and slipping them back into their rightful place.

A few paces down the hall she could make out the silhouettes of the dead. Her feelings towards the massacre she had created were conflicting within her mind. She felt hatred towards the people of Roman’s kingdom. They were a symbol of Roman's power. They were pawns in his game. Completely worthless to her and her plans until now. Yet, she had never been taken with the idea of being the bringer of death to the entirety of these borders. 

In the end, however, those ideas were not ones she had come up with on her own. They had been fed to her in secret for all these years. Plans designed to fail at the perfect moment for the hero to strike.

This plan was entirely her own. It hadn't failed. She was proud of that. 

Still, the death of so many people, men, women and children alike, was a sad sight to see. Facing her destruction was going to be a challenging feat, so she refused to look at the face of anybody she passed walking through the castle halls. Instead, she allowed her magic to rush over them and remove the gore with its illusions. As long as she was alive, the magic would hold and the damage would stay hidden. 

The few minutes it took to walk through the rapidly transforming halls felt like hours as she passed person after person. When she made it to the doors of the throne room she urged her magic to go quicker. No one had entered the throne room, the doors locked, but many had certainly tried. There was a great deal more to remove from sight.

A guard was slumped up against the door, a red-stained key ring in his hand, and large sooty and bloodied teeth marks punctured his body. The sword he carried stuck out of the chest of a second guard. She recognized the first one, he was one of her spies. One of the few people she had gone to the night before. She had promised them so many things: safety, power, freedom. Seems he had done his job; and seems she had one less promise to keep. 

She plucked the keys out of his hand as her flames covered him with the illusion. She wondered where her other spies had managed to go, how many more had died. 

Some had survived, at the very least one. She had given one of her spies instructions to hide a portion of the kingdom's people. There would have been no point in ruling nothing. She would have to find their hiding place soon.

Keys clinked into the lock. The door swung open. For the first time ever, she hesitated.

The throne room was large and long. Exposed stone walls, a ceiling so high that if you were to fall from the chandelier your skull would crack open when you hit the gray stone floor. Simple red tapestries hung on either side of windows. Four of which were intricate stain glass designs.

It was the stained glass windows that had her pause. She remembered passing them when she had first entered the throne room on day one, but now she was finally looking at them. They puzzled her and gave her an unwanted feeling in her gut. 

The closest one, to the right of the throne, was of Roman. His head held high, his sword drawn, downed his prince attire, simple golden crown atop his head. The surrounding images depicting monsters or creative items, like a manticore and theater masks. His crest floated over his head like a halo. His name was in bold letters across the bottom. This one was to be expected, Roman was known for his dramatics in design and elaborate pieces of art depicting himself. The other three, perplexingly, were not depictions of Roman.

The one next to it was starkly different. The man within was sitting on a set of stone stairs, the only one of the four windows to not be standing, he wore a purple riding jacket and black ripped pants, a small black crown sat askew on his head. His expression smug, but the dark underneath his eyes conveyed tiredness. Flying papers and lightning strikes were paused in their flurry of movement around him. Above his head was a storm cloud with a striped pattern and a bold white lightning bolt. The name Virgil stuck out from under the dark figure.

To the left of the throne was a man with a cheerful expression and his arms outstretched in a waiting hug. He was in a similar outfit to Roman’s, different color scheme perhaps. The golden accents had been switched for silver, the sash was a baby blue, the pants a light grey. Round black-rimmed glasses sat on his nose, and a silver crown was also sat askew, like Virgil’s had been, on the figure’s head. Animals: dogs, cats, birds, field mice, and more, surrounded him, all excited to see him. A yellow-tinted sun shone around him, giving him an angelic look. His crest hung over his head, a heart shape with matching glasses and a smile. His name, Patton.

The last was of a stoic man, he stood straight, a book in hand. Dark blue shirt with bronze accents, black pants, and a bronze crown sat perfectly on his head. The shadows of the man’s face were odd and she couldn’t figure out if he was smiling or frowning, the square glasses didn’t help in determining. Shelves of books surrounded him and images of alchemy experiments were floating in space around him. His crest was a brain with glasses, mimicking Patton’s own. Logan was the name at the bottom. 

They made no sense. 

Roman was and has been the only royal for as long as her memory could serve. There had been no time before that Virgil, Patton, and Logan had existed. So why now were they displayed as equals to Roman in the prince’s very throne room. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts abruptly as a small voice squeaked from behind her, “Dragon Witch? I have completed my task." 

She gestured for Alpha to take the still unconscious Roman into the throne room of her as she turned to the girl who had appeared. “Dragon Witch is not my name,” she replied shortly, refraining from snapping at the young girl. 

The girl looked up at her with a mixture of fear and curiosity, "Then what shall I call you, mistress?"

The Dragon Witch told the girl her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my sister, who finally sat down and read it. She's now super excited to read more and will be helping me with motivation and editing from now on. Love her!
> 
> Boy, this chapter took forever! Glad it's out and about! Oh, btw, the angst train is only beginning. I have so many tears- I mean /things/ planned for the future. 
> 
> Please oh please leave a comment!! I, and every other author, absolutely thrive on comments. So please leave a comment they are 100% appreciated ALL the time.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and I can't wait to hear y'all's responses!


	6. Retelling Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman thinks back to another time where things hadn't gone as planned.

Roman came to slowly, becoming aware of his surroundings bit by bit. The first thing he felt was the headache piercing his skull, a quiet whine left his throat. The second thing was the bright lights, of what he assumed to be daylight, shining through his eyelids. Third, he was lying on the floor in a fairly uncomfortable position. Seems like there was no chance of him staying asleep.

He began to sit up, but as he did a heavy weight around his neck shifted and he froze in panic. His eyes shot open as he began to remember the events of the past few days: the Dragon Witch had given him no mercy. Roman had lost.

Losing to the Dragon Witch was a rare thing. It had only happened once before as far he could remember. He had to get back to his door and out of his room. Like, now.

Pulling himself up he raised his hand to the object around his neck. It was heavy and cold to the touch. A thick iron chain connected to a loop in the front, making it weigh even more.

It was a collar. Roman’s fear for his future doubled.

The chain connected to the left side of a grand black and purple velveted throne. He vaguely recognized the room as his throne room. The walls were now a wine purple instead of their usual grey stone, the stone floors replaced with smooth obsidian. An indigo rug stretch from the back of the throne to the large oak doors at the end of the room. The tapestries were an electric blue, and they billowed lightly from an unknown breeze. The Dragon Witch’s wolves lined the walls in different stages of rest, some staring at him, but most paying him no mind. Roman would have been convinced he was in an entirely different castle if not for the fact that his stained glass windows remained exactly the same, the stones around them scorched.

An all new type of dread filled Roman at the sight of them. Why had the Dragon Witch left the windows untouched? She didn’t know the significance of them. She wasn’t aware of their importance. Why leave them?

The alpha of the wolves appeared from the other side of the throne and Roman felt the size of a mouse as she came over to him with the familiar fiery glare. He had half the thought to attempt to manifest his sword and challenge her, prove he was bigger, but the heat seeping into his wrist reminded him of what had happened last time.

If Roman wanted to escape he’d have to get rid of the brand, summon a sword, and then fight the entire pack of magicked-together wolves. There was so much room for error, and as of right now, his ability to change things was the only upper hand he had against the witch. Besides, he could only use it in small amounts or something in the world might change dramatically. He had learned that the hard way a while back-

_The ocean spray was sharp as it splashed Roman’s face, but the thrill of the upcoming danger kept his smile bright. A pirate adventure was taking place around him and it was going exactly as planned, as they always do._

_He and his crew were heading straight to a deserted island after hearing several trustworthy reports that the famous Captain Rose Blood had hidden her treasure there. There was also whispers that boobytraps had been set in place to protect the lass’s treasure. Though Roman assured his crew he wasn’t worried about some rumors that could not be confirmed for sure. Even still, he overheard the crew’s worries that no one knew for sure if there was trouble because no one had come back from the island alive._

_Roman, however, knew for a fact that there were several boobytraps placed around the island. He had come up with them himself and the thought of working through the complexities of each one brought him excitement._

_“Captain! There’s a problem!” Roman’s first mate called to him. He smiled to himself, right on schedule._

_Roman jumped off the bowsprit to the deck. He sprinted towards the quarterdeck where his first mate was pointing, and where he knew another ship was tailing them. It was getting closer with every passing minute. “Prepare for battle, men!”_

_His crew scurried into positions. Cannons were pushed into place and cannonballs were being brought from the hull of the ship. Men were loading pistols and readying their swords. Roman placed a proud hand on the hilt of his own blade. The katana wasn’t accurate to the story he was playing, but it was the most fun to wield._

_The other pirate ship slowed it’s pace as it came up next to them. The vessel was smaller than Roman’s, but there would be damage to his ship if they weren’t quick in their victory. The other ship was preparing their cannons and Roman didn’t want them to have the satisfaction of delivering the first shot._

_“Ready men!” Roman called, overlooking the scene from afar, “Fire!” Several cannons went off at once. The sound of wood shattering was music to Roman’s ears as each cannonball hit its mark._

_Roman’s men were able to get in another round of fire before the other ship was able to retaliate, but it was a lost cause. The ship was already severely damaged, all Roman had to do was aim a cannon a little lower and the ship would sink within minutes. The other ship’s crew were abandoning ship before Roman could even light the wick._

_The captain of the ship, Captain Black Storm, was calling everyone to the deck. Roman knew what would happen next, the other crew would board their ship and there would be an epic battle. Some casualties would ensue, as there ought to be, but Black Storm and he would fight till the eventual surrender._

_A gunshot rang out and the battle had begun. Roman headed towards the gunshot only to for Black Storm to appear and advance at him with his own sword. They engaged in their own fight as chaos broke out around them, Roman blocking every blow the dark-clothed captain would throw at him._

_As the fight continued for a few more minutes Roman was growing concerned, he hadn’t been able to switch to offense as Black Storm continued his onslaught. Black Storm had more speed than Roman could manage and he found himself on the defense the entire fight. He was slowly backed into a corner and the game was becoming less fun. Even worse, Black Storm wasn’t smug about his obvious advantage, he just seemed angry. Roman could outsmart an opponent that got cocky, but his opponent was very obviously not._

_Black Storm had managed to pin Roman to the railing, and with a swift movement grabbed his arm and forced the katana out of Roman’s hand. He held his own sword to Roman’s throat, “It’s over, Red Prince.”_

_Black Storm wasn’t grinning. Roman would have preferred a grinning villain._

_There was a small flash of light and, for the first time, Roman cheated. His katana appeared in his left hand and he pushed it through Black Storm’s stomach. They met each other's eyes, and Roman immediately regretted his decisions. Not only for cheating, but for who Black Storm was based off. The oh-so-familiar brown eyes were filled with pain and confusion and an awful feeling made home in Roman’s stomach as the Anxiety-copy crumbled to the floor._

_This was wrong. He was supposed to surrender._

_Cheers started all around Roman as his crew members noticed the defeat of Black Storm. At the sight of their dead captain the other crew surrendered immediately. Each member was taken prisoner and placed in holding cells below deck. Roman told his first mate to take control as he excused himself to the captain’s cabin. He collapsed into a velvet-covered chair to reflect on his actions._

_He knew something like this could happen. Small changes in the narrative were common, as long as the story ended the same and each checkpoint was met. They were especially common if Roman based a character off of someone else. Those characters could become unpredictable if the imagination filled in gaps for things Roman didn’t know. Seems he knew less about Anxiety than he had thought._

_He shouldn’t have cheated. He shouldn’t have summoned his sword. He could have found a way to reverse the situation._

_But his only option had been surrendering, and even that was not an option. Surrendering had the potential to completely throw off his story, everything would become unpredictable until the next checkpoint. He was so close to the end, he couldn’t risk it._

_Then his first mate came barreling through the doors, Roman couldn’t help but snap, “What is it?”_

_“Captain, sir, there’s a storm rolling in,” The man stammered._

_“No there’s not,” Roman answered his brows furrowed. He stood up and walked past him to see outside. Roman had not added a storm to the narrative, there were to be clear skies all the way till the end. Despite his thoughts, large black clouds were being swept closer by a new wind. He glanced at the sword that had been sheathed at his side. Roman didn’t know how, but he knew that this was his penalty._

The Alpha barked at one of the wolves closest to her, returning Roman’s attention to the current situation. The wolf scrambled up and scurried out the throne room door to somewhere further in the castle. She watched it until it was out of sight before returning to her spot on the other side of the throne.

Roman braced himself for the confrontation that was about to take place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man this was a really fun chapter to write because I got to think about all the ways I can parallel this to future chapters! =)
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	7. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragon Witch reveals just how much she knows. Roman is terrified of the villain he's created.

The Dragon Witch entered the throne room, her dress sweeping behind her, “Greetings Roman, did you rest well?” 

Roman attempted to stand, to regain some semblance of dignity. The chain, however, jerked short before he could even pull himself to half his height, the sudden loss of momentum causing him to crash back on to his knees. Rage built up in the back of his throat “What have you done?” his voice cracked with anger.

“What I promised to do, Roman, have you forgotten so quickly?” She taunted. She stood in front of him, but she had yet to climb the few steps to stay on level ground with Roman. He was thankful for the distance between them and the added height the highered ledge gave him. “I had promised to you the destruction of all you have created and built in this world. I have kept up that promise, have I not?”

“You have,” Roman quipped.

“I am glad you think so. It only seems right, after all, you’ve toppled castles of mine, crumbled hiding places, broken enchantment after enchantment,” she added, her tone nonchalant, as she picked a bit of dust out from underneath her fingernails. 

Roman fumed. He hadn’t so much as step a foot inside one of her fortresses. At least, not this run, “I have done no such-” 

“You’ve killed me dozens of times,” She added before he could finish, her gaze finally shifting up to his. 

Roman gawked. “You shouldn’t know that.” She shouldn’t, her memories should be only of this scenario. Roman would admit that he didn’t recreate the Dragon Witch from scratch each time, so it was entirely possible that she carried the memories from scenario to scenario, but something would have had to trigger it, and nothing had before. Why would they have been triggered now?

“Oh, I shouldn’t?” She jeered, “I believe they are my own memories Roman, though it does bare the question: Why are you aware of the oddity of our time loop? Why, when I seem to have a different title each time, outcast, evil queen, treacherous creature, do you always hold the title of prince in a kingless land? Why, by all means, Roman, are you always the sole ruler of this world?” The Dragon Witch hissed.

“BECAUSE IT IS MINE!” Roman bellowed, shaking in rage. The imagination was his and damn this witch for believing she had any claim to anything within his realm.

The Dragon Witch paused, looking him up and down, before laughing, “Is it truly?”

Roman scowled as her laughter calmed and she continued on, taking the stairs up and closing the space between them, “Your claim is believable when all is considered.” She giggled lightly, “Well then, it seems I have brought a god to his knees, quite literally.”

She took his chin in her hand her sharpened nails dug into his skin, “However, if you are a god, then why do you bleed like a mortal?” Her other hand dragged rough against his cheek. Roman tried to pull away from her touch, as he felt her claws begin to break skin, but she held firm. 

When she lifted her hand away and Roman saw the line of blood dripping down her fingers. “Red has always been a favorite color of yours,” The Dragon Witch mused, “I can see the appeal.”

Roman pushed down the impulse to reach up and touch the new wounds stretching across his face. The feeling of warm blood and stinging scratches would only increase if he did so.

“I defeated you once, Roman. Even if it was only once,” She muttered, seemingly to herself, “You were preoccupied with other thoughts, it was almost easy to strike you down. Then you disappeared, my one victory, vanished as soon as it was accomplished. I remember each time after that, you were never distracted again. You made sure of that.”

The Dragon Witch looked up from where her gaze had been on the blood on her hand and stared into his eyes, “Now I have won, and I will not allow you to disappear on me once again.”

Roman near opened his mouth to speak, but he could think of no words to say. The Dragon Witch did not seem to notice, her gaze had shifted again, now to his tunic, “I wonder-”

She grabbed a handful of the fabric and the spot burst into blue flames. Roman yelped and attempted to scramble away, but the Dragon Witch still had a firm grip on the article. The fear drained out quickly, however, when Roman realized that the flames were not burning him.

Roman watched the Dragon Witch’s face in confusion. She was staring at a particular spot on his chest, and when the flames burned away most of the clothing there she looked disappointed, but once the tunic was completely turned to ash and she saw the rest of his torso, the look of fury chilled Roman to the bone. 

“It’s not here,” She snarled. She touched the spot where she had been staring, causing Roman to flinch. “Of course these are here,” She ran her fingers over several of the scars riddling his body, trophies from previous adventures.

“Please, stop,” Roman pleaded, scooting away from her touch. 

“Where is it, Roman?” She questioned, “You have every other scar I have given you, and then some. Where is the one from when I had won?”

Roman peered down to where she had been focusing on. The spot was familiar and he remembered why. There had been a scar there once; an awful, ugly scar right over his heart that had put him in the sourest of moods whenever he saw it. So, he had imagined it away and pledged to forget the events that had caused the mark. Though he broke that pledge on occasion. It was hard to be rid of the memories that you associate with such strong emotions, especially that of your own defeat. 

He had no answers for her, he couldn’t very well explain how he had gotten rid of it. 

“Where is the scar, Roman? Where is it?” She raged, another fireball forming within her hand. This one, Roman was sure, wouldn’t be as harmless as the one that had eaten his tunic.

He attempted to swallow his fear, Roman needed to calm her before more harm was done to his person. Perhaps he could come up with some explanation that would satisfy her, “Dragon Witch, allow-”

“THAT IS NOT MY NAME!” She screeched, the fire in her hand growing bigger and hotter, “It has never been my name! But that is what everyone in this godforsaken land calls me!” She took a shaky breath and looked into his eyes. Her face went deathly calm, like a waveless sea before a tsunami, “My name, Roman Cree Sanders, is Moira Dragae Carman Elizabeth Corona, and I am tired of being addressed as nothing more than a villain in your fairytale narratives.”

Her hand slammed into his chest. The resulting scream echoed through every hall within the castle. Survivors paused in their leaving when the pained sound of their leader reached their ears. Roman, they all realized, was not going to be saving them from the witch’s fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is finally out!! You guys don't want to know want to know ho many times I screamed in frustration trying to get the words to leave my brain.
> 
> This is the last Roman POV chapter I have planned for a while (though to be completely honest most of these chapters were unplanned, if you'v been paying attention you may have noticed the chapter count going up)! So get ready for our Emo Nightmare™ to make his reappearance!
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and subscribe so you're alerted for when the next chapter is out! (I promise it won't take as long as this one took to come out!)
> 
> Also go follow my tumblr @roman-red-aesthetic for updates, random oneshots, and other crap! ;)


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